Not That Desperate, But
by lovelylatte
Summary: Poland hadn't made a move in weeks. Lithuania couldn't quite bring himself to ask, but putting on his trousers in the morning was becoming, well, harder and harder... He needed help, but was he really that desperate?


_another kink meme fill - it felt kinda rushed for me, but hey. I'm preparing for a 'fest that's gonna last all of June, so I had to finish it beforehand!_

_The prompt was: Liet being awkward at asking Poland to have sex with him, so he uses his imagination (or others', as I wrote). _

* * *

**Not That Desperate, But...**

* * *

"God, Lietuva, why can't you just _ask_?" Lithuania angrily muttered to himself as he paced the floor of his study, frustration overtaking his mind and keeping him from his work.

His ears were buzzing; still, he took a short instant to thank his lucky stars, cruel as they could be at times, that he hadn't had to leave the house in the last few hours - in the morning he had put on the largest trousers on his wardrobe, but now they were quite uncomfortable and didn't hide the source of his growing uneasiness as well as he would have hoped.

It was a little unfair, Lithuania thought: Poland never hesitated, did he? The little blond was always clear and straightforward with Lithuania - at least, when it came to frivolous activities and needs such as new clothes, getting drinks, another dance or company in his bed - except lately. The past few weeks, Poland's visits had been oddly calm, peaceful, uneventful even, and incredibly frustrating for Lithuania who was now past the point of worrying about his friend's health and into _problem solving mode_.

Or how to turn the tide and finally get some much needed relief.

_Come on, you knucklehead, think. What would Poland normally do?_

Lithuania groaned. Had he really gotten to the point where he was asking what Poland, of all people, would do?

Yes; nothing else had worked.

At least he wasn't desperate enough to ask France.

(Yet.)

* * *

"Think of what he likes," Hungary had said calmly. She took a sip of her lemonade and twirled the ice around for a few seconds, a quite-not-innocent smile playing on her lips. "You know him better that I do -"

- which Lithuania doubted, actually, enough to know she was most probably teasing him -

" -or at least, in that way. Although, if you don't even know how much he likes being tickled..."

* * *

Tickling didn't work. Poland spilled tea all over the rug, kicked Lithuania in the side and then they were both too busy laughing - or, in Lithuania's case, crouching on the floor, cleaning up while muttering dark somethings about timing - which in turn had made Poland so hungry they ended up making sandwiches and baking a cake from scratch.

It was a start, Lithuania attempted to convince himself, though even the smallest glimmer of hope stubbornly refused to shine.

* * *

"Cakes!" America never grasped the meaning of _indoor voice, please, thank you_, nor how it was generally considered polite to swallow before opening one's mouth. "The way to a guy's pants is by his stomach, dude. Bake him something! Like, his favorite cake? I bet you know what it is, huh?"

Lithuania indeed knew - he had lived with Poland for long enough and cooking for him, even his favorite desserts, had practically become a habit and not something special that led to a thank you, let alone thank you sex, but he had also lived with America for long enough to never underestimate the persuasive power of a home-cooked beloved meal.

And he supposed he respected the younger nation enough to at least give it a try.

* * *

Baking had ended up even messier than tickling, fruit and powdered sugar all over the countertops, floor, walls, clothes and faces.

Lithuania, feeling both playful and adventurous, had brought his tongue to Poland's cheek to lick away the remnant of plum preserves stuck to the pale skin; but the others' soft lips had found the spoon of leftover cake batter that much more enticing.

Too enticing, in fact - Lithuania could have, should have predicted the ensuing stomach ache that sent Poland to bed for all the most disappointing reasons.

* * *

"You care for him a lot, don't you?" Ukraine hadn't quite looked at him and had blushed slightly. Lithuania couldn't figure out why - not that he could have to, busy as he had been attempting to blow his nose discreetly (he hadn't been allergic to pollen back in the days - he was definitely getting older).

"But perhaps he believes you don't, if you don't show it in a way he will understand."

Lithuania was quite sure Poland understood very well how much he meant to Lithuania, even abused it at times, but he couldn't bring himself to interrupt Russia's almost-tearful sister.

Ukraine fingered the petals of a yellow tulip (hopeless love, Lithuania noticed), looking thoughtful. "You should show your affection by taking care of him. Bring him flowers when he feels sad, maybe, or sick. I am sure he would like it a lot; I know I would..."

* * *

"Liiiiet," Poland's whining was definitely unattractive - for that at the very least Lithuania was thankful. So was his expression, grimacing as he knelt pathetically in front of the toilet. "P-put me out of my misery or something, please, I beg you!"

"You brought this upon yourself," Lithuania showed no mercy, because he really had no intention of cleaning Poland's messes more than he already had today. After the tickling and the baking, he was starting to believe they should have been in bed already, maybe even cuddling, if only Poland hadn't been so childish! "And you're being overdramatic, too."

Poland let out a moan that sounded suspiciously like a sob and just like that, Lithuania felt his resolve - and irritation - falter.

"But I'm in pain, Liet!"

Lithuania sighed, frown lifting. He wouldn't be losing anything by trying, at least, except perhaps his time and his pride. But Ukraine usually gave more decent and sound advice than either Hungary or America - although when it came to intimate matters it was more about trusting her kind, mature instincts over his louder, more exuberant friends.

"I know you are, Po," he softened his voice considerably, and filled a glass with cold water. He settled it next to the toilet and Poland raised his head and took a sip.

Poland leaned against him as Lithuania crouched on the floor next to his friend. He raised a hand to push back the blond strands from his clammy forehead; Poland groaned at the contact, and the sound made Lithuania shiver.

_Time and place, Lietuva_, Lithuania had to tell himself. _There's a time and place..._

He was pretty certain Ukraine's advice wasn't about taking advantage of his friend while he was feeling so weak.

Besides, Poland's breath would probably taste like vomit.

Poland flushed the toilet and sighed loudly, closing his eyes; Lithuania kissed the top of his head and nuzzled his hair, the fresh sent of fruity shampoo stronger than the sweat and sick.

"Feeling a little better?"

Poland hummed and nodded, eyes still shut.

"Why don't you go up and take a nap, huh?"

"If you carry me."

As he attempted to pick him up - although there was no way he was going to go up the stairs to his room - Poland's hand accidentally brushed the front of Lithuania's trousers; Lithuania felt his heart bounce and he could almost swear he saw Poland's still-pale cheeks colour slightly.

Lithuania then remembered that kind and mature she might be, but Ukraine _was_ Russia's sister...

* * *

"Drink," Russia had offered simply, and oh no. No. This just wasn't something Lithuania did, and besides, and he wasn't desperate to the point of trying to get Poland drunk.

And he hadn't even _asked_ the huge nation!

* * *

Except, maybe, he was, after all. Desperate. And also achy, and utterly distracted, reduced to pacing back and forth in his lonely study like a madman.

He couldn't exactly go out and get flowers to follow the rest of Ukraine's advice - the flower girl down the street would surely get the wrong idea, and Lithuania didn't want to add 'getting arrested for public indecency' to the mess the whole day had been so far.

Poland felt better after a short nap anyway, or so Lithuania deduced from the music he could hear from downstairs; a mismatched playlist of loud, energetic songs with the occasional classical orchestra track that indicated Poland has commandeered his portable speakers and plugged in his own player while he showered and got ready for the evening.

It was nearing five o'clock and Poland probably expected to go out later - maybe he'd be up for a beer?

_Breathe, Lietuva. Of course that's what Poland would do - he's always up for a beer when you invite him. That, at least, he's constant about._

And he could take the occasion to sneak away for a few minutes, buy a couple of daisies, yes.

His embarrassment of a problem was still mocking him through the loose fabric of the old trousers, but maybe he could hold on a few more hours, pick a place with low lighting and high tables...

Before he could steel his nerves and ask, though, Poland burst into the room.

"Hey, Liet!"

Taken by panic, Lithuania tried to scramble back behind the desk - but he wasn't fast enough to avoid Poland's hand grabbing his wrist, forcing him to turn and face him.

His eyes went as wide as saucers as they travelled down Lithuania's body.

"Woa, Liet."

Lithuania groaned. Poland stared some more, mouth slowly forming a smirk.

"Po... you seriously hadn't noticed?"

Poland rolled his eyes, and Lithuania noticed light traces of make-up.

"I was kinda, like, busy throwing up and stuff. Didn't know that was the kinda things that turned you on, Liet."

Lithuania felt like dying right on the spot - or at least running far, far away, where he would be able to avoid Poland's cruel, merciless teasing. He took a step back, steading himself against the wooden desk.

" I don't - God, Poland - it's not that!"

Poland advanced towards him, eyes bright and innocent but his grin carrying other implications.

Lithuania felt so completely exposed, his face burning in embarrassment, but his arousal showed no sign of diminishing. Still confined in clothing, his cock was throbbing painfully.

"Then why don't you, like, explain it to me?"

Unable to hold on anymore, Lithuania kissed him, hard.

Poland moaned breathlessly but kissed back with an energy that killed any worry Lithuania might have had about his health; he sneaked his arms around his shoulders and pushed his body against the taller nation's.

"God," Lithuania groaned. "You have no idea... how..."

Poland tangled an hand in Lithuania's hair and pulled lightly.

"Shh, Liet, just kiss me."

This advice, Lithuania had no trouble following to the letter. He pulled his friend in his arms until he was practically sitting on him and grabbed his ass, squeezing softly.

Poland laughed, a light, breathy sound that lifted Lithuania's heart - he would have laughed too if his mouth hadn't been busy latching on the pale expanse of his friend's neck, kissing and sucking the most sensitive spots. Hurriedly he lifted Poland's shirt and took it off, throwing it on the chair.

"My, Liet," Poland murmured softly in his ear. "What had you been waiting for, uh?"

Lithuania had to keep himself from biting the soft skin; instead he squeezed Poland's ass harder, making the other yelp.

"Wanna do it here?"

"_Anywhere_," Lithuania closed his eyes, unable to stop the flow of thoughts and the warmth that spread all over his body, taking over his mind. "Here, there, everywhere, God, Poland, I don't care I just want you. Now."

He could practically hear Poland's smirk.

"Hey, if that's how you're gonna be, maybe I should make you wait more often -"

Lithuania forcefully caught his lips again, anything to make him shut up and put these soft, teasing lips to better use.


End file.
